Dog,
Three years ago, you cuddled around my ever-expanding belly.
I pet you and rubbed you and laughed at the “haters” who said once my kid was
born that you would become a dog. We went on long walks, and I took you to the
dog park, and I fed you on the regular.
My how things have changed, and it’s my fault, and I’m
sorry.
You’ve always barked at squirrels and cats and people
walking by. But when you warned me of the deadly squirrel in our yard three
weeks into having a new baby and while I was running on very little sleep, I
wanted to punch you.
And when you chased after another dog one morning while we
were having our daily “chalk and bubbles” time outside, I just let you go. I
only had enough patience for one of you, and the baby won. I used to chase
after you, worry about you, drive around shaking a box of treats, but I didn’t
that time. “Bye!” I waved sarcastically and went back to scooping the chalk out
of baby’s mouth.
And there were days my newly walking 18 month old would find
his way over to your water bowl and pick it up and pour it everywhere. Some
days I had the energy and patience to correct him, clean it up, and correct him
again, and clean it up again, and correct him again. Other days, I just put
your water bowl up on the counter, out of his (and in turn, your) reach. Sorry
about that.
We haven’t been on a walk in God know’s how long. We don’t
go to the dog park because I have to constantly make sure my kid isn’t stepping
in dog poop or being humped by a dog. I got tired of those “who brings their
baby to a dog park?!” glances, so we just stopped going. I know you loved it,
and I’m sorry.
As he grew, you were so patient with him, You let him pull
your tail and chase you around the house. You never snapped, not even a growl
or snarl. You just let him bother you into you were tired of it, and then moved
along. You let him crawl all over you,
try to put hats on you, and sometimes the two of you even play hide-and-seek.
It’s very cute. Thank you.
Life is so busy now, with him in daycare and me at work that
sometimes I get home and realize we are out of dog food. So I give you a bagel
and left over rice, pat your head and promise to get some tomorrow. At the end
of the day, when all I want to do it sit and stalk people on Facebook, and you
give me that “I have to go potty” face, I just can’t. So I ignore you, and then
you lay down, and I mindlessly refresh my Facebook feed, until you come back
and ask again. AndI huff and puff and tell you how annoying it is that you have
to go out and let you out for 3 minutes. And in the back of my mind I know you
just want to chase lizards and smell grass and enjoy the fresh air, but if you
haven’t peed in 38 seconds, I’m ready for you to come back in. And I’m sorry.
And I’ve got more bad news for you. You’re about 3 months
away from another demotion. Down the totem pole you go to make way for baby #2.
And although I’m sad for you, I know you’ll be okay. You’ll love and protect
this one like you did the first. And you’ll put yourself last, all the time.
And every time I come home and ignore you, you’ll still meet me at the door,
tail a’waggin.
Because you’re a good dog. and I suck as an owner. And I’m
sorry. And my hope is that when the kids get bigger, we can do the things that
good dog families do. Trips to the dog park will be feasible, I’ll designate
one of them to feed you twice a day, and maybe we will even go on walks again.
Until then, thanks for hanging in there.
Your Owner
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